


After Hours

by FactoryKat



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Being Anders, Blue-Purple Hawke, Happy Anders (Dragon Age), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:11:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FactoryKat/pseuds/FactoryKat
Summary: In which Hawke had all the best intentions to help Anders clean up in the clinic after a long day.





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age subreddit's weekly writing prompt thread. The theme was Love and Romance so naturally I wrote up a little Handers sweetness.

Prompt: A sleepy sigh, watchful, sounds among the quiet, thinking.

 

The stillness inside the clinic fills every corner, lays like a blanket over the space and the only sounds among the quiet ambience are human made. Potion bottles clink and pages of notes ruffle in a breeze as deft hands see them to their proper place. Faint voices are only whispers beyond the doors, somewhere in the depths of the sleepless undercity.

Hawke’s mind wanders, leaving the empty clinic and travels to fond places, thinking in silent contemplation about everything and nothing. He leans too confidently on the mop held in hand and rests his eyes on Anders retreating form, watching him wordlessly restore order to his sanctum, readying it for another day. 

He fixates on his hands, healers hands with long and nimble fingers, calloused and scarred. Beautifully merciful hands that knew much pain and suffering, capable of knitting flesh and tissue leaving only the fleeting taste of the fade as the magic did its job.

A sleepy sigh escaped his lips and Hawke fought the creeping urge to close his eyes, to doze on his feet.

“You look tired, love. Go home. I can finish up by myself.” Anders was crossing the room wearing a gentle smile in his honey eyes. 

“Mmn sorry. I said I would help, but I don't think I've been much use.” 

Anders liberates the broom from him with laughter on his lips, ones that he presses gingerly into Hawke’s open palm. “I appreciate it all the same. Now go. I promise I'll be up soon.” 

It's easy to admit defeat to such a pretty face. His palm travels from Anders lips to the loose wisps of gold framing his face and cradles the crook of his neck. “Fine fine. Chase me out. I know when I'm unwanted,” Hawke jokes and grazes the tip of his nose with a kiss. Anders’ best feature, he thinks. Long, defined, beautiful…

He stops, before he finds his self-control wanting and his hands working the buckles on his lover’s coat. A drowsy smile settles easily onto his face as he withdraws. “Don't make me wait long or I'll come back down here and throw you over my shoulder. If that's what it takes to have you.”

For a moment too long, Anders paused and Hawke recognizes the look of contemplation. They share grins mirrored of one another. “I'd almost be tempted to let you try.” 

…

When another hour passes, Hawke decides he wants to make good on his word and finds Anders waiting, only half pretending to still be busy and smiling to himself.

Their laughter carries up the stairs through the cellar just like Hawke carries his wonderfully frustrating healer.


End file.
